


flashes

by aaronminyxrd



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Light Angst, honestly this is just me word vomiting about charles, idk how to tag this i havent crawled out of my cave in years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 13:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13101462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aaronminyxrd/pseuds/aaronminyxrd
Summary: If Beckendorf were to describe himself in one word, it would be prepared.





	flashes

**Author's Note:**

> i miss beckendorf and this series :((  
> also as always idk how 2 title

If Beckendorf were to describe himself in one word, it would be prepared. 

And the preparedness went beyond knowing which tools he’d need when, or which squabbles he’d have to help mediate within his bunkmates. Beckendorf was aware that with his physical appearance, he would have to prepare himself for ridicule, rumors and misunderstandings regarding his personality. To combat these, however, he made sure he was prepared to be kind, understanding, and especially hard working in turn. Eventually, his fellow campers saw him as more of a gentle-giant rather than an imposing one. He was shy and a little unsure at times, but he soon became an anchor—someone to hold the camp and its campers together in times of need.

It was something akin to a leader, and as always, he made sure to prepare himself for the new responsibilities that would bring.  

He thought preparing to die would be–not easy, no–but just as simple. And so he came onto this quest with Percy more prepared than he had ever been.

Or so he thought.

As he detonated the bomb, he realized that he was very, very wrong. 

See, if anything, Beckendorf was prepared for the pain, the anguish, the overwhelmingness of it all. Prepared for the burns and the stench and the ringing in his ears.He was not, however, prepared for how literal the expression ‘flash before your eyes’ was to become. 

* * *

He didn’t know if all demigods experienced this before _(or was it during? Perhaps after?)_ dying, butthe only thing Beckendorf could see was a bright, white light so excruciating to the eyes and numbing to the mind that for a split second he thought he was standing before a God. 

The light soon began to fade, however, and he soon came to realize that he was  _not_ standing in front of a God, no.  _Close, though, I guess._ He mused to himself.  _Not really._

Charles Beckendorf was looking at a mini-version of himself, no more than twelve years old, alone and crying as the piece of metalwork in his hands refused to work. 

Instinctively, he reached out to his younger self, only to find his hand passing through his shoulder.

He remembered this day.

It had been a stupid school contest, but one he intended to join nonetheless. Maybe even win, if he were lucky. But children, as happy and as silly as they were, could also be unbearably cruel.

Even now, he still wasn’t sure why they did it. Why they bothered to sabotage his work, why they were so adamant he didn’t get any of the ribbons or trophies or certificates. 

He remembered how  _alone_ he felt back then, how long that feeling seemed to last. 

Beckendorf felt an internal lurch then, and he was hurled forward in time.

This was a louder memory. Happier too. 

He was surrounded by a mass of sweaty bodies either from training or a long day’s work at the Forges, all chanting his name and giving their best effort in hoisting him up as a fiery red hammer appeared over his head. 

“We  _knew_ it!” Jake exclaimed. “Honestly, with hands as good as yours, we wanted to damn the claiming all together. Welcome to Cabin 9.” 

Beckendorf let himself smile. He never felt alone after that, and really, with a Cabin as boisterous as his, he was never given much of a chance to. 

Another lurch, and Beckendorf fought the urge to throw up, if that were still possible.

Various memories were being played in front of him, from fleeting glimpses to full on replays, but the feelings he felt resounded within him all the same. 

Meeting Silena.  _(Heartbeat erratic, palms sweaty, smile shy. The whole experience left him feeling like a flower suddenly unfurling.)_

Becoming Head Counselor, Meeting Percy, then Tyson.  _(A fierce protectiveness, the sudden urge to step up. Fire, shared tools, loud, almost obnoxious laughs.)_

The Forges, Capture the Flag, Monsters, Death and Mourning, Chariot Races and Greek Fire.

Fireworks.  

Oh, the fireworks. 

Blue and green and everything in between. Loud then soft, the world around him a myriad of colors and a sudden absence of sound as he held Silena’s hand in his.

He had said, rather dopily, that he thought this is what love had to feel like. 

She had kissed his cheek then and laughed.  _“I know it is, Charlie.”_

The Bronze Dragon, Planning against Kronos, His first kiss.

A final, forceful lurch.

Elysium.

A sudden outburst of applause, a chorus of welcomes.

Beckendorf thanked his fellow heroes almost absentmindedly, unsure of how to proceed, still processing his memories. 

The crowd dispersed soon after, deciding to give him space. 

He walked aimlessly, the grass crunching beneath his feet, eyes scanning faces both new and familiar. Castor. Lee Fletcher. Young and vibrant and waving him over. 

He stopped walking, contemplated what to do next, what to make of the memories he had witnessed, what to make of his life and death. 

Beckendorf was not prepared for Elysium, of its beauty and quiet tragedy. He realized then, that he had not even been prepared for much at all. Not for his claiming, or the monsters or the chariot races. Definitely not for Silena. And least of all, to die. 

He resolved, however, that he would be prepared for one thing.

And so, he made his way to his fallen friends, the memories of his life a heavy, but not unpleasant weight on his shoulders. 

For everyone, and for Silena, he would be prepared to wait. 


End file.
